


Twas The Night Before Christmas

by pressdbtwnpages



Category: No Fandom, Wizards of Waverly Place
Genre: Christmas, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-14
Updated: 2011-12-14
Packaged: 2017-10-27 09:44:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/294370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pressdbtwnpages/pseuds/pressdbtwnpages
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>When Mom said “Christmas is such a magical time of year!” she didn’t mean it the way Alex heard it.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Twas The Night Before Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Adapted from the poem _Twas The Night Before Christmas_ by Clement Clarke Moore. For [](http://anamarya.livejournal.com/profile)[**anamarya**](http://anamarya.livejournal.com/) for advent 2011.

When Mom said “Christmas is such a magical time of year!” she didn’t mean it the way Alex heard it. Still. Alex loved Christmas and she loved magic. What could possibly be better than combining two of her favorite things?

She shot a look at Justin. He was looking right back. Alex knew he was in.

*  
It was the night before Christmas, when all through the apartment  
Not a creature was stirring, except for the Russo children.  
The stockings were hung by the magically-added chimney with care,  
In hopes that Wizard Nicholas soon would be there.

The children had magical impersonators nestled snug in their beds,  
While dancing sugar-plums swirled around their heads.  
And Mom in her nightgown, and Dad in his sweats,  
had been charmed into a long winter’s nap.

When out on Waverly Place there arose such a clatter,  
Justin and Alex ran to see what was the matter.  
Away to the window they flew like a flash,  
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow  
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below.  
When, what to their wondering eyes should appear,  
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tinny reindeer.

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,  
They knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.  
(“It can’t be!” Justin hissed to his sister.  
“Who else?” She hissed right back.)  
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,  
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!

"Now Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!  
On, Comet! On, Cupid! on, on Donner and Blitzen!  
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!  
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,  
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.  
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,  
With the sleigh full of Toys, and St Nicholas too.

And then, in a twinkling, Justin, Max, and Alex heard on the roof  
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.  
As they drew in their heads, and were turning around,  
Down the chimney St Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,  
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.  
A bundle of Toys he had flung on his back,  
And he looked like a peddler, just opening his pack.

His eyes-how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!  
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!  
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,  
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow.

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,  
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.  
He had a broad face and a little round belly,  
That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly!

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,  
And the Russo’s laughed when they saw him, in spite of themselves!  
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,  
Soon let the know they had nothing to dread.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,  
And filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk.  
And laying his finger aside of his nose,  
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose!

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,  
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.

“Did that really happen?” Justin asked his siblings.

“Maybe Alex messed up a spell?” Max suggested.

“Maybe you did!” After a moment’s hesitation Alex said, “Or maybe Santa Claus was really just in our apartment.”

“Santa Claus isn’t real!”

“Neither is magic!”

Then they heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,  
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!"


End file.
